


Morning After Dark

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Biting, FIFA World Cup 2014, M/M, Uruguay National Team, Were-Creatures, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luis Suárez is a werewolf. To his surprise, he's not the only one in the Uruguay NT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning After Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 1 am after Uruguay lost to Colombia. So what was supposed to be funny isn't even funny.

_It wasn‘t Luis‘ fault._

_Or well, it was a bit his fault that he wandered around the town after dark, when his mother clearly told him not to, but which fourteen years old boy ever listens to his mother? And definitely, just wandering around doesn‘t mean asking for being bitten by a huge, wolf-like creature._

_That’s why he never told anyone that what bit him wasn’t a regular dog. He wasn’t even sure himself_ what _it was that bit him in the leg. The doctor at the hospital cleaned the wound, took all precautions in case the dog had rabies, bandaged the wound and sent Luis home. For the hospital in Luis’ town, it was close to exclusive healthcare and he was really lucky they didn’t kick him out right away._

_The wound healed quickly – strangely quickly, when Luis later thought about it. In a few days, there was only a faint mark left. It could have ended there. But it didn’t._

_The first time Luis saw his hands transforming into paws, he freaked out. Who wouldn’t. He felt like a freak, a monster. He felt alone._

_The full moon was shining bright above the town and Luis felt miserable, hiding in a dirty alley, waiting the night out. Well, he hoped he would change back once the full moon was gone – he certainly didn’t want to stay like that for the rest of his life._

_Suddenly, a group of huge wolves appeared like out of nowhere, approaching him slowly, but threateningly._

_So he wasn’t alone. The problem was that the other creatures didn’t look happy to see him, and definitely didn’t seem to be ready to make a new friend. The snarling sounded nothing like a friendly greeting._

_Luis backed away to the very end of the alley, until he had nowhere to run anymore. All of a sudden, another wolf appeared, jumping over a wall that Luis wouldn’t ever consider being possible to jump over. This wolf was almost silvery white, with its fur shining in the moonlight. It stood between Luis and the others, snarling threateningly, all muscles tense and ready to lunge forward._

_The wolves let out disappointed huffs and retreated, disappearing behind the corner. The wolf showed Luis its teeth in something that could be considered a smile – if wolves, or werewolves, could smile. Then it jumped over the wall again._

_Luis never saw the wolf again, but every now and then during full moon, he had the impression of catching a glimpse of silvery white fur disappearing behind the corner or a shadow moving on the walls behind him. And it didn’t feel creepy at all. It felt rather reassuring._

*

Transforming into a wolf doesn’t scare Luis as much as it used to, even though he still feels like a freak. But there are positive things about it as well – even in his human form, he can now run faster, jump higher, he’s stronger and has better instincts. For an aspiring football player, it’s a blessing. Luis only hopes the doping tests can’t reveal one’s werewolf nature.

The first time he gets called up for Uruguay U20 national team, he doesn’t really know what to expect. He knows a couple of the other guys, but he’s been playing in the Dutch league for some time already, so he’s technically a newbie like anyone else.

He approaches Edinson because out of all those who are in the locker room at the time he knows him best. Edinson waves at him before looking at another boy and frowning.

“Martín, this is _my_ headband!” he says.

“You sound like my sister,” Martín rolls his eyes, takes off the headband and hands it to Edinson. “I hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

He looks at Luis and it’s Luis’ turn to frown. Something about him is familiar. The eyes are familiar because they look like a dog’s – a wolf’s, actually, and when he smiles, strangely Luis thinks of the one particular wolf. He gasps, staring at Martín incredulously. Martín, however, only grins and then puts a finger to his mouth.

“You should both cut that hair so that we could all finally live in peace,” the coach says. “To the pitch now!”

Despite this being his _de facto_ first national team experience, Luis can’t wait until the end of the practice, because it’s the first time he actually meets another werewolf in person – literally. Of course he knew that there were others, but after that one experience he never tried to socialize with them, and to have one so close to him will only make him paranoid about which other football players might be werewolves or other creatures he is sure that exist.

*

Starting a conversation with your teammate with _So how did you become a werewolf?_ is kind of awkward. Martín, however, doesn’t seem to be much disturbed by it.

“Well, werewolves stole me from my crib and raised me in the woods,” he says and throws his feet on the table, cradling a bottle of beer because they have a free day tomorrow.

Luis gapes at him.

“Really?”

“No, just kidding,” Martín laughs. “It would be kinda cool, though.”

He’s so relaxed about the whole thing like it’s as normal as being human.

“Look, no need to act like it’s the worst thing that could have happened to you,” he says. “It’s alright. Just can’t go partying during full moon, which sucks sometimes.”

“But the others...” Luis starts.

“The others don’t have a clue,” Martín waves his hand. “They think we don’t exist. They’ll believe in God but not in werewolves. Crazy, huh?”

“Why did you follow me?” Luis asks then.

“Oh, so you saw me?” Martín smiles. “Well, it’s like with people, you know. There are werewolves that are alright, and then there are jerks. And they like to go after unsure loners like you.”

“You’re a loner too,” Luis frowns.

“But I’m not unsure.”

He puts the empty bottle on the table and gets up.

“Just never do anything that would make them suspect you and you’ll be fine,” he says. “It could have been worse.”

“Worse?” Luis frowns.

“Sure,” Martín grins. “You could have been bitten by a werecat. Those are really annoying, you know.”

*

Three years later, Luis is playing for Ajax. He doesn’t even know how it happens, but suddenly he has his teeth stuck in an opponent’s shoulder. Mayhem ensues. The opponent is even bleeding, the referee can’t believe what he has to deal with, his teammates are looking at him like he went insane.

Luis immediately calls Martín. He‘s on the brink of a panic attack, because he bit someone, everyone saw it and _will Bakkal now become a werewolf_?

With a deep sigh, Martín assures him that since Luis was in his human form when the bite occurred, _no, Bakkal will not turn into a werewolf_.

“But... won’t they... suspect me now?” Luis asks, still a bit shaken.

“No. More likely they will think you are mental,” Martín says. “I think that too, actually. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Luis says. “It was stronger than me, I couldn’t help myself.”

Martín makes a non-committal sound. Luis clears his throat nervously.

“You never feel like doing that? Biting someone?”

“Well, when it’s not full moon, I prefer biting into a chorizo, thank you very much.”

It leaves Luis even more confused.

*

Martín throws his phone on the table and runs a hand through his hair. This is really weird. Alright, he likes to nibble at his lover’s ears and neck, but people do that too. It has nothing to do with his werewolf nature.

Maybe biting is just a reflex for werewolves, though. But when he thinks about it, he elbows his opponents on the pitch most of the time. He doesn’t bite them.

His phone rings again. He looks at the display and sighs. Diego Forlán apparently saw the incident on TV as well.

*

Diego Forlán is an alpha. It’s one of the few things about him that haven’t appeared in _Caras_ yet, and probably the most important one. Though it’s not like the whole nation has to know that one of the biggest stars of the national team is a werewolf.

“Did you see it?” he asks instead of a greeting.

“Yes. And Luis called me.”

“We need to keep an eye on him.”

“That might be a problem because he’s in Amsterdam, I’m in Italy and you’re in Spain.”

Diego sighs.

“I was waiting for this to happen,” he says.

“Why? I don’t bite people,” Martín laughs.

“No. You don’t bite people because it wasn’t me who turned you.”

*

Luis transfers to Liverpool. The biting incident is almost forgotten because he becomes literally a superstar, so people are mostly interested in his goals and not his teeth.

Until during the match against Chelsea, he grabs Ivanović’s arm and sinks his teeth in it.

The media are all over him, calling him “cannibal” and “vampire”, and the fact that nobody comes up with “werewolf” is only a small relief.

And then Diego Forlán suddenly turns up at his door.

*

Luis feels like a schoolboy before scolding. Diego Forlán is a legend and he has never done anything that could have marred his image (except deciding not to get married shortly before the wedding). Luis expects him to yell at him for badly representing their country, for being an idiot, for not being able to control his temper.

“Look, it’s perfectly normal that you have to do it. Just do it in private.”

Luis’ eyes go wide. It’s definitely _not_ perfectly normal. By all FIFA standards and human moral codex.

“W-what?” he stammers.

“Werewolves are like that,” Diego says calmly.

Luis plops onto a sofa, almost missing it.

“ _We_ are like that,” Diego adds with a smirk. “And sometimes, we simply feel like biting someone.”

“Martín doesn’t,” Luis objects because it’s the only thing that comes to his mind besides the other one.

_Diego Forlán is a werewolf._

“Martín is basically a werewolf saint,” Diego snorts and sits in an armchair. “He never bit anyone even in his werewolf shape. He’s still pretty much human.”

“But... why do I keep doing it on the pitch, then?” Luis asks.

“Because...” Diego leans closer. “You don’t do it anywhere else.”

What ensues is the weirdest, wildest, sexiest experience in Luis’ life. He and Diego look human, but that’s the only thing that is human about what they are doing. They scratch and bite each other, and for the first time Luis feels like someone is able to tame him, to dominate him. It feels like finally some insatiable hunger in him, some vacant spot is filled.

“Remember,” Diego says before leaving. “In private.”

*

It works perfectly. Luis still feels the urge to bite, to dominate. But he doesn’t take it to the pitch. And when he feels like being dominated and safe, there’s Diego to satisfy his needs. Not always, but often enough.

The World Cup in Brazil comes and it’s supposed to be the highlight of his career. But then the injury comes and with it the worries, the disappointment, the urge to feel safe. Diego, however, is busy with taking over Luis’ duties. There is little time between the practices, the matches, the traveling.

Luis spends the first match on the bench, but thanks to the medical staff (and also his werewolf DNA), he’s fit for the match against England. He gives Uruguay the necessary three points. The hunger remains, because football can’t cure it.

And in the match against Italy, it happens. He snaps. Chiellini is just within reach and his shoulder is basically _calling_ on him, and Luis sinks his teeth in the Italian’s flesh. He realizes soon enough what he’s doing, tries to conceal the incident, act like he was the victim, but it’s too late. He can practically feel Diego’s eyes burning a hole in him.

*

The team stands by him, the nation stands by him, but it doesn’t change anything. FIFA bans him from football for four months. He has to leave the delegation immediately. And the worst thing is that Diego is keeping his distance from him now. He feels like a freak again.

He would like to apologize, to say that it will never repeat itself, but he knows that it most probably will. Because it’s in his nature and inevitably, the day will come when he will need to do it again. Mainly now, with Diego being in Japan and no one else being able to tame him.

So he keeps making up excuses, not really hoping for the ban being lifted, he just has to say _something_.

He calls Diego a couple times. Diego never answers the phone.

*

On the terrace of the team’s hotel in Brazil, Diego and Martín are watching the city fall asleep.

“Maybe you should have talked to him,” Martín says quietly.

“No,” Diego says resolutely. “He has to learn. Next time he does it, he can already write ‘I am a werewolf’ on his forehead.”

“Maybe he really can’t help it.”

“If _I_ can help it, he can, too. He’s not even an alpha.”

“Will you ever tell him?” Martín asks. “That you were the one who turned him?”

“Maybe,” Diego smirks. “When he’s ready.”

He rubs the old scar on his leg, the remnant of the one fatal bite. It always becomes itchy at that time of the month.

“Will you ever turn Muslera?” he asks then.

“Maybe,” Martín chuckles. “When he’s ready.”

They look at the dark sky. The moon is almost round.  



End file.
